Written in the Scars
by morgangirl11
Summary: This was inspired by the song "Just Give Me a Reason" by Pink/Nate Ruess. It takes place about a year after C/B started dating, but is not tied to the specifics of season five. In other words, it's a slight AU, forcing the ugly conversation they've needed to have for quite a while.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the show or any of the characters. I'm just having some fun playing in their world.

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Her eyes darted down to her phone again, the traitorous pair intent on forcing her hand, refusing to let her ignore the missed calls. There had been five of them in the past two hours; three voice mails. Sighing, she tried to focus on the reports splayed across the desk, her temporary solution to a more lasting problem. It was almost midnight, but work had always been her best distraction, so she couldn't help but cling to it now.

After several tear-blurred minutes, she finally gave up.

She still didn't listen to the messages, couldn't bear to hear his voice any sooner than absolutely necessary; her phone was dropped into the bottom of her bag where it could be as dark and muted as her screaming heart. The computer was turned off, the files put away, a deep breath taken. It wasn't until she moved toward the elevator that her stomach revolted and she hastily shoved her way into the restroom, her bag abandoned on the floor.

Retching over the sink, coffee and anxiety making their acidic escape, she once again considered the possibility of running away completely. Shutting down and never facing any of it. But as she raised her head and braved the mirror, she recognized that she owed him more than that; if she dug deep enough, she'd be able to admit that she owed it to herself as well.

She scooped cold water from the faucet and rinsed out her mouth, then grabbed a paper towel to wipe the fear from her face. Straightening with bravery she didn't feel, she left the bathroom…the bullpen…the precinct. She drove to the loft, the connection with her sanctuary stretched thinner with every block. Eventually it was gone completely, leaving her in front of his door, alone.

A choked sob acknowledged the ridiculousness of knocking, her keys clutched in her other hand. But she didn't think she had the right to let herself in, not after what she had done that morning. No, she'd give him the option of turning her away, though she was certain he wouldn't make it that easy. He'd called enough times to make it clear that he wanted to talk. She supposed that was part of the problem.

Their entire relationship was full of conversations that only one of them wanted to have.

The heavy door swung wide and she was greeted by cloudy blue eyes and the smell of scotch. She could almost see the battle of too many thoughts, or accusations, trying to be the first out of his mouth. As if they all surrendered simultaneously, he simply backed away and let her in.

She found herself looking around the loft, seeking evidence of anything that had changed in the past 15 hours, perhaps a clue as to how much he had had to drink. He read her mind; apparently he only missed the things he didn't want to see.

"I'm on my second one. Believe me, I'd like to be much further along, but I figured I should be coherent when the love of my life tries to explain why she's such a coward."

The truth took her breath away. There really wasn't much to say in her defense, but she tried anyway. "I thought it would be easiest if I did it this way. But I didn't run completely. I left you the note. I told you I'd be back to talk about it."

He laughed derisively. "Yes, you left me a fucking note. After taking everything else." Childlike confusion rolled across his face. "When I kissed you goodbye this morning, things were fine. I hurried off to my meetings at Black Pawn and left you here to get ready for work. So, imagine my surprise when I came home. Of course, I didn't notice right away. I was eating lunch in my office and catching up on emails, so it wasn't until I pushed my plate aside that I noticed your blanket and book were missing from the chair where you were curled up so perfectly last night."

She stifled the guilt rising to the surface as he used his words to paint such a clear picture for her, just as he had done a million times before. She couldn't even look at him. He just kept talking.

"I couldn't tell you what it was that made me pause, but something felt wrong. I got up slowly and went into the bedroom, and everything was gone. Your slippers, the lotion and lip balm you kept on the nightstand, your spare phone charger. I found the empty drawer, the space left in the closet, and like a masochist, I wandered into the bathroom. Shampoo, body wash, toothbrush, razor, makeup…gone. It still fucking _smelled_ like you, but there was no other trace of you having been there at all, except for the folded note next to the sink."

His voice cracked, and she looked up to see the tears he was fighting to keep from falling. Having already lost that particular war, salty tracks ran down her face and derailed disastrously onto the floor.

"Castle, I just wanted the cleanest possible break."

"So that's it? You've made the unilateral decision that we're over? I don't even understand what _happened_, Kate. I thought we were forever, that I was your one and done. Did you just wake up and realize that you don't love me at all?"

That did it. His dam finally leaked, a renegade teardrop racing the waterfall of her own.

"Oh my god, Castle, no. No. I love you so much and I need you to believe that. I just…I don't know how to do this anymore." She wasn't sure how much longer she could physically stand up to him, the sheer weight of their feelings making her legs too weak. She moved to the couch and sat down; he did the same, but took the opposite end, as if he appreciated the symbolism of being so close and so far away at the same time. He seemed to be waiting for her to continue, so she did.

"I have loved you for so long that I can't remember a time when I didn't. When you weren't in every heartbeat, every breath. You've seen the bad parts of me and loved me in spite of them. Hell, you're the one that built me up while you tore down my walls. You have to know that. You _fixed _me, Castle. But now I feel these cracks and you're so far away that I don't think you can stop them from breaking me wide open."

"So walking away from this relationship is the only way to keep you in one piece?"

She sighed. "No, walking away from this relationship is the only way to keep you from getting cut by the jagged edges left after I've fallen apart."

"Don't justify this with the delusion that you're doing _me_ a favor."

Before she could say anything, he stood to retrieve his empty glass, apparently ready for another refill. Gesturing an offer to pour one for her, she nodded in response; while she didn't normally drink scotch, she supposed she deserved the punishing burn of it in her chest. After he handed her the drink, he sat down closer than he had before, and they both took a long, smooth swallow. The tears were starting to dry and a subtle calm had settled around them, his ire temporarily shelved.

"Okay, Kate, I'm going to need you to back up a bit. You said that I'm far away? How? What have I done to make you feel that way?"

Biting her lip, she tried to work out an answer, failing because words were his gift, not hers. "I think we're on different paths, and we'll eventually end up in completely separate places. It's worried me for a long time, but when I've tried to bring it up to you, it's fallen flat. I don't think you even realize how much you deflect, how often use your humor to avoid talking about us. You're charming and funny, but you aren't serious when I need you to be. It's created this gap and I don't know how to bridge it."

He took another sip, hiding his expression in the bottom of the glass, but she didn't miss the sadness on his face. It was the look of a little boy who had just been scolded for something he couldn't help, a defensive mechanism that had now betrayed him. She decided to keep going. Maybe he would see that this was the best thing for both of them.

"You talk in your sleep a lot. I always thought it was adorable that you couldn't even stay quiet overnight." She smiled wistfully, already missing the mumbling that used to lull her into slumber, his voice soothing when he wasn't even trying. "But lately, your words have been tense, pleading, and scared. Like you've become unhappy. And I can't help but think that I've caused that."

His head jerked up, some of the anger returning. "Jesus, Kate. You have nightmares all the time. Am I supposed to take the blame for them?"

"No, Castle. Of course not." Ugh. This wasn't going well. She really didn't want to argue over the details, she just wanted to explain why she was putting them out of their misery.

"Then why the hell would you think you cause anything I do in my sleep? And why would you end a relationship because of it? Do you even hear how ridiculous that sounds?"

She set her glass on the coffee table and stood up. She needed to move. Pace. Release the anxiety that had plagued her all day.

"That's just one example, Castle. There's a distance between us and I don't know how to make it better. We go through the motions, but we're not moving forward and I can't survive waiting for our relationship to fade away. I may not survive it either way, but I'm not tearing you down with me."

The tears were back, sliding down her cheeks without regard for her pride. She backed up against the wall and closed her eyes, desperate for this to be _over_. He wanted to process it, but she just needed to walk away and shatter on her own. She was a mess and he deserved so much more.

He had finished his drink and was moving toward her, but she was lost in thought and didn't hear him approach. It was only when he was within a few feet that she opened her eyes to the sorrow shadowing his normally jovial face. She started to speak again, but he placed a fingertip against her lips and crowded into her space.

Placing a chaste kiss on her wet cheek, he reached for her hand and walked them back to the couch. They sat, and he angled himself toward her, clearly unwilling to let her hide anymore. She simply waited for whatever he was going to say next.

"Ok, Kate. You said that you've tried to talk to me, and that I've deflected. So, here I am. Ask me anything. Tell me anything."

Well, shit. She wasn't sure how she'd fooled herself into thinking that he'd let her go without a fight, not when he had fought so hard to be with her in the first place. Now he wanted to put it all on the table. Fine, if he needed the reasons why their relationship wouldn't work, she'd give them to him. He _had_ to see that it was better to end this now, but she'd start small.

"What happens if Alexis decides she really isn't okay with us being together?"

His raised eyebrows suggested that he wasn't expecting her to open with that. "Um, she's been okay with us for several months. Other than some tension around the time of the bank hostage situation, and her hesitance at the beginning of our relationship, she hasn't had any issue with us at all. And, while I love her dearly, she's grown up and at least partially on her own now, and she doesn't get to dictate my personal life. I've spent 18 years doing what is best for her, but I need to take my own feelings into account, too."

That hadn't been nearly the land mine she thought it might be and she found herself scowling. "What if I don't want to be a cop anymore? Or what if I don't want to live in New York anymore?"

He actually laughed at her. "Kate, I am in love with _you_, not your job. And I'm quite sure I will love you anywhere, from sea to shining sea. I also think you're pulling random excuses out of your ass right now, but we can certainly discuss them if you're that concerned about the effect your title and zip code have on our future."

Great, he brought up the future. It would be an easy segue, so she took the opportunity she was handed. "I want to get married someday. You've already been married twice. Can you honestly say you want to do it again?"

He finally paused. Started to open his mouth, but stopped. It wasn't exactly the reassurance she might have hoped for, had she allowed herself to hope at all, and she stood up again. The constant up and down wasn't helping her unstable nerves, but she couldn't just sit there and wait for him to confirm that there would be no walk down the aisle in their future.

She was several steps away, her back turned to him, but the sharpness in his voice made her freeze.

"Kate, you need to stop running away. We obviously both have our ways out of tough conversations, but it won't help if I have to explain myself to your back."

Spinning around to face him, she glared, pissed that he was trying to call her out on anything. Of course, it probably wouldn't have upset her so much if it weren't true_._

"Okay, I'm waiting."

He shook his head, the love and frustration evident in his expression. "The thought of marrying you scares the shit out of me." She looked down at the floor, defeated. "Kate, listen. Please. I love you so much, and it took us such a long time to get here that I haven't wanted to do anything that might mess us up."

She was interrupting before she could think better of it, her voice louder now. Perhaps volume would get her point across. "We're already messed up, Castle! We work together at the precinct and joke around and have great sex, but we never _talk_. Not about anything that matters and I just can't-"

"Kate! Stop speaking. Stop running. Just _stop_."

Now he was standing again; their dance was becoming increasingly absurd. He looked like he wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her into silence, but she bit down on her lip and said no more. If he really wanted to keep this up, she supposed she could let him.

"As you so correctly pointed out, I've been married twice. Which also means that I've been divorced twice. A failure twice. And I don't want to fail you, but maybe it's too late for that." She felt the crease form between her furrowed brows and forced herself to stay quiet. "Those marriages were mistakes that I allowed to happen. _My_ mistakes. And I'm terrified of us falling into that same awful category. I want nothing more than for you to be my wife, but you becoming my third ex-wife would kill me. So, yes, I've avoided the subject entirely because I figured it would be safer to maintain the status quo. And, obviously, I was wrong."

They were facing each other, holding tentative eye contact. She was studiously ignoring his admission about wanting to marry her because there was a question stuck in her throat, mixed with the bilious reminder that she should have asked it long ago.

"Why did your marriages end?"

He nodded slowly, as though he had been expecting it, but she wasn't prepared for his response.

"Do you have to work in the morning? Because, if you don't, I'd like to make us some coffee. We could be up for a while."

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A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. Part two will be coming soon. Special thanks to A. and A. for their help and reassurance!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the show or any of the characters. I'm just having some fun playing in their world.

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They settled back onto the couch, steaming mugs in hand. The entire scene was strangely misleading; if someone were to walk into the loft, they'd see middle-of-the-night domesticity without the hint of trouble. There was no outward sign of her abrupt abandonment of their relationship, or his desire to salvage it. The room was silent, almost eerily so, and she almost wondered if she was dreaming.

His gentle voice eased her back from her reverie. "Again, neither of my marriages should have _started_, so the ends were inevitable, really. I married Meredith because she was pregnant with Alexis and it seemed like the right thing to do, but she wasn't cut out to be a wife or a mother. I pushed her into my vision of the perfect little family and we both feigned happiness for as long as we could. But one day, when I came home earlier than expected, I found her straddling her director on our couch." He barked out a sad laugh. "Who knew that a cheating wife wouldn't be the worst surprise I'd ever come home to after a meeting?"

That stung; his words were like darts perfectly aimed at her lungs, making it more difficult to breathe with each tiny wound.

"Gina was a marriage of business, publicity, and convenience. We worked well together as publisher and author, and we were obviously attracted to each other physically, so we thought it would be a match made in literary heaven. And I think I was eager to give Alexis a more normal family. But outside of the bedroom and the boardroom, Gina and I had nothing, and I ended up shielding Alexis from Gina more than I included her. Our marriage ended as clinically as it had begun."

She let his words sink in. The explanation was so simple, so why had it become such a big deal? "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

His long, deep sigh complemented the quiet of her question. "I was the only child of a single mother who spent more time delivering soliloquies than conversing with me. She did her best, but had to work to support us, so I was largely left alone. I learned early on to use my charm and sense of humor to make the most out of the few moments I got with her or anyone else."

"You already know that I got kicked out of a lot of schools; I guess I let the charm and humor get out of control sometimes, but it was so easy to rely on it. At the same time, I wrote a lot, because the dialogue on the page was often more than I experienced in person. When I became famous, it was just more of the same…maybe even worse. Suddenly I was surrounded by people, more than I could have imagined wanting to be near me, but there was never anybody who actually wanted to talk to me. To _listen _to what I had to say."

"Kate, I know none of this is an excuse for not talking when you've wanted to, and I'm sorry. You're right that deflecting with jokes is a defense mechanism, and you deserved better than that from me."

She felt the tears return, a reaction to his sincerity. For the first time all day, she questioned her haste and wasn't sure what she wanted anymore. Actually, that wasn't true. She had always wanted him, and that hadn't changed in the last 24 hours. She had just stopped believing it could last forever and she was getting desperate to make him see her side. If she didn't convince him soon, she might lose the will to do it at all. Before she could say anything, he continued, his accusing tone somehow encouraging.

"And I deserved better from you." Her head snapped up, his anger demanding attention. "I get it, Kate…when you freak out, you run. You had concerns about our relationship, and I wasn't communicating with you well enough to face them, so I'll take half the blame. But you waited until I was out of the loft, packed up everything you've brought here over the past year, and you quit on us because you thought it would be easier than having an adult conversation about an adult relationship. Do you hear me, Kate? You _quit_ on us."

Now it was his turn to seek space, rising from the couch and walking toward the window overlooking the lights of the city they both loved. Running his hands through his hair in frustration, she knew he was still holding back. She forced the issue.

"Castle, I was just trying to-"

"No, Kate. I don't want to hear any of your bullshit. You were selfish and scared, so you left without any regard for me. You know, you once told me that you kept one foot out the door, just in case, and I thought that you had finally given that up when you showed up here and said that you wanted me. But now I get it; you'll find a way out of a relationship no matter where your feet were planted a second ago."

Good. This was good. It hurt like hell, but he was angry and much more likely to let her go. If ending this peacefully wasn't an option, then fury would have to do. Anything was better than a slow death. She joined him by the window and spoke unrestrained.

"Yes! You are a flippant, insecure child and I am a self-centered coward. You avoid and I run. It doesn't matter how much we love each other because we are going to keep hurting each other until there is nothing left. Castle, can't you see that it's so much better to do this now? Please."

Without warning, he pushed her up against the glass and ripped open the top of her blouse, two buttons lost to the darkest corners of his living room. In direct contrast to the force with which he exposed her, he gently ran the tip of his finger over the puckered skin between her breasts, lovingly tracing the reminder of the day she almost died.

"There is always something left, Kate."

She glanced down at her chest, then up into his wet eyes, her confusion quieting her to a whisper. "What do you mean?"

"This scar; it's proof of past pain. It will never go away, but that's okay because it's a sign of survival. Your scar will always be here to show us that you were terribly hurt and so close to losing it all, but we wouldn't be looking at it right now if you hadn't made it through. You and I both have other scars, dozens of them, all representing times that we've been hurt and healed."

Unable to speak around the lump in her throat, she simply closed her eyes as he continued.

"And there are more, too. Ones we can't see, hidden deep inside. They were left there by our parents, Meredith, Kyra, Royce, and Montgomery. And by each other, Kate. We've hurt each other more than once and, yes, we're doing it now. But if we look closely, we'll see the truth written in the scars, written deep in our hearts. The reality that we've survived and are still here, together."

He was still mad at her, she could see it beneath the calm he was projecting, but he wasn't giving up on her. On them. And he was standing so close to her, but she couldn't push him away. She gradually realized that she was anchored by his certainty, a welcome replacement for the guilt and fear that had held her down all day.

Unable to accept the soft tug of hope, she kept talking. "Castle, how can you be okay with us hurting each other? Doesn't that tell you that it's better to let go?"

Shaking his head slowly, he seemed sad that she didn't understand his point of view. Truly, the feeling was mutual. "We can't avoid pain by running from it. But we can stop reopening old wounds by communicating with each other. I don't want this to be the end, Kate; I want it to be our beginning. I want us to open up about everything that has damaged us in the past, and I want us to stop them from happening again. We won't be perfect, but I didn't wait years to be with you just to let you walk out the door now. 'Always' wasn't a pick-up line; it was a vow."

The tears were back. Would they ever really stop? "But I don't know how to stay."

Pressing into her, his large body more of a comfort than it should have been in the situation, he carefully closed the distance and touched his mouth to hers. Her body responded instinctively, her lips parting, the taste of liquor and coffee shared between them. The kiss ended before she could acknowledge the disaster it would bring with it, her resolve crumbling.

"Kate, tell me you can still feel that. Tell me that you haven't already built a new wall. I know you think we're broken beyond repair, but it's not true and we can learn to do this right. Please, just give me a reason to keep fighting for us."

Her lips still tingled with the ghost of their kiss. Her heart was gripped by the ghost of so much more. When she snuck out of the loft that morning, loaded down with duffel bags and remorse, she had been confident that she was doing the right thing, no matter how much it hurt. She had been able to see everything wrong with their relationship, and was convinced that amputation was healthier than a slow-spreading infection. So, what was giving her pause now? Why wasn't she gone?

She looked up, into the azure eyes of her answer.

Castle.

With hungry hands, she grasped the front of his t-shirt and crashed her mouth against his. They opened for each other and it was perfectly messy, a clashing of lips, teeth, and tongues. Her hands fought their way thought the infinitesimal space between their bodies until she could reach under his shirt and absorb the heat of his stomach with the palms of her hands. One of them moaned, she couldn't possibly tell who, and they didn't separate until they were gasping for air.

"Kate, we have to stop." Even as the words left his mouth, he was kissing her still-wet cheeks, his large hands bracketing the sides of her head. "We can't solve anything like this. I just need to know that you're still here."

The lower half of his body was tight against hers, so she knew that there was a primal part of him that wanted to solve their problem _exactly_ like this. But he was right; she had left him that morning, and losing their clothing and short-term memories was only going to exacerbate things. She was almost willing to add it to her growing list of offenses, to allow them an illicit farewell; instead, she simply covered his hands with hers and waited until they reestablished eye contact. She was becoming aware that there would be no goodbye at all.

"I meant what I said, Castle…I don't know how to stay. I got scared and stupid, and I don't know a way around that."

They remained pressed against each other, and the window, but lowered their hands so that they were clasped at their sides. He regarded her carefully before digging deeper.

"Why are you scared?"

"You already touched on it, talking about our scars." Her laugh was sad, the memories overwhelming. "Everyone leaves me. My mom, Royce, Will, Montgomery…sometimes it was intentional, sometimes it wasn't, but all the ones who mattered ended up leaving me."

He nodded, almost to himself. "So instead of waiting for me to be the latest abandonment, you figured it would hurt less if you were the one who left."

"See? Stupid."

"At least you realize it." He was actually teasing her, the familiar smirk on his face welcoming her home. "Look, Kate, my psychoanalysis skills pretty much end there. We obviously have a lot of things wrong between us, and we're going to have to claw our way back from this, but I will be by your side if you're willing to put in the effort. We can drive out to the Hamptons and spend a weekend screaming and yelling until we've sorted out everything that has gotten so fucked up. Or, if you want to be a little healthier about it, I'm sure we could get a referral from Dr. Burke and talk to a professional."

A small smile of relief graced her mouth for the briefest moment, but it took longer for her timid reply to find its way out. "Yeah, that sounds good. I mean, the professional, not the fighting at the beach house."

He leaned into her and captured her mouth with his, resuscitating her with the strength of his love, breathing life into her body. The kiss was the perfect reminder of everything they were and everything they could still become. She wasn't sure how she was lucky enough to be wrapped in his arms after what she had done, but it was time to earn the love that he had bestowed upon her so unconditionally, the patience that was never-ending.

"Castle?" She had pulled away just enough to speak softly against his lips and he hummed in response. "Don't ever let me go."

While they both knew what she meant, he seemed intent on taking her literally for as long as he could. Holding her tightly, he maneuvered them back to the couch and onto their sides. Her back was pressed against his chest, their legs tangled, and his arm draped across her waist; it was a position that was both comfortable and intimate, reassuring without forcing anything they couldn't safely embrace.

There were lots of conversations to be had and wounds to be repaired, but for now, they needed nothing but sleep. Closing their eyes, they allowed themselves to fall, confident the sun would alert them to a new day, and all the second chances that would come with it.

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A/N: Thank you again for reading; it's greatly appreciated. Also, continued thanks to A. and A. for their help and reassurance!


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